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Monthly Archives: October 2011

Sink or Swim

I work part-time in a consultant-type of position.  My schedule is unpredictable and erratic.  I could work 7 days in a row and then I could not work for 3 weeks.

What this means is that I am constantly scrambling for childcare.  I have to call my list of babysitters and beg them to come for 2 hours here, 2 hours there.   I am asking for favors all the time, mostly of other mothers, but often of my cousins and my brother and sister-in-law.

“Would you mind taking Sam after school and my husband will pick him up?”

“Could you get Michael off the bus? Or could Michael get off at your stop and hang out for a little while?”

And my poor husband…forget it.  When I can’t find coverage  – I beg him to help me…even if it means taking them to work and having them watch a movie in his office while he attempts to get work done.

I’ll do anything to get to work.  I usually am able to figure it out somehow – some way – and I screech into the parking lot of where I am working, on 2 wheels and hustle in (late and looking like shit.)

The past couple of weeks have been very hectic and I have worked a lot of hours.

I have asked for a lot of favors.

My kids have had several playdates that I forced mothers to invite them to.

My husband hates me.

I am now wearing “period underwear” when I have no period – due to lack of clean laundry.

Yeah  –  guess what else happens when I work a lot.

The laundry is to the ceiling.

The refridgerator is empty.

There are dustballs everywhere and my bathrooms are disgusting.

I just feel like I am in a constant state of treading water.

This is me and what’s pulling me down is my laundry, my filthy toilets, and my moustache…..

Constantly on the go – Mr. Gaga and I are like two ships passing in the night.  We sometimes give each other high-fives as one of us comes in and the other is going out the front door.

Last week,  he had a meeting that he was going to be late to – and I was running late coming home from work.  He got in his car – and as my car turned the corner onto our street – he pulled out of our driveway and started to go.  We waved and beeped at each other.  (* OK – our kids were only alone for like……a minute)

So – the next morning I was miraculously ready for work on time, my babysitter was on time, I was in good shape.

I got into my car and it wouldn’t start.  I had left a light on.

The swearing and anxiety that resulted from this were not good, but probably nothing compared to my husband who had to leave work and bring me jumper cables and jump my car.

And then there was the swearing and anxiety that came from my boss when I told him I would be an hour late to my event in NYC.  And I heard when he told his boss the news…….


It is all very stressful and I often feel like my throat is closing as anxiety is filling my being.

Sometimes I come home to things in some sort of order, but more often than not, I walk in the door and in no particular order I think….

“Homework needs to be done, field trip money is due tomorrow, the PTO wants me to sell wrapping paper by tomorrow, I need to write them a check – shit – I forgot to order more checks, I need to wash the sheets – it’s been two weeks, the faucet is still dripping – clearly Mr. Gaga is not good with fixing things – I need to call a plumber, I have to make cookies for Sam’s Halloween party, and the zipper on Michael’s backpack broke and I should just order a good one from LL BEAN, the library books are overdue and one is still missing – maybe I have to just pay the fee, Sam needs new rainboots, maybe I should get good ones for $35 at Nordstrom or should I just keeping buying cheap ones that rip for $20 at Target, I need to make a dessert for my grandmother’s 80th birthday party, I need to pick out photos that I like from the kids’ photoshoot, there’s no food in this refridgerator, I really need to go grocery shopping, maybe I could just order a pizza,…but I am sooo fat….I need to get to the gym, I am never going to get there this week, maybe I could just find time to run, I should really start running – since I want to run that Thanksgiving race,  I really need to register for that, and by the way who is coming here for Thanksgiving, I need to text my cousins tonight and ask them if they are coming, I wonder if I will have time to dye my hair tonight, but if I do – I need to get up an hour early tomorrow to blowdry my hair, I am too tired for that – maybe I can just wax my moustache tonight, I should really get my eyebrows waxed too – maybe if I can make a hair appointment then David can wax my eyebrows, but really if I have time for an appointment – I should get the boys’ haircuts,  they need it worse than me…etc. etc. etc. etc …..until I pass out from complete mental exhaustion with basically nothing done.

I usually decide to reward myself with a little down-time in the form of Real Housewives of any county (I LOVE THIS FRANCHISE) or Rachel Zoe – and then I pass out with gray roots in my hair and a full moustache and a muffin top.

This weekend I was on top of things.

I was going to work two full days and still make it to Michael’s soccer game and take Sam to a Halloween party bearing seasonal baked goods.

I was kind of past treading – I was maybe doing like a doggy paddle….almost about to break into a crawl….

And then…….

Storm Alfred.

We are estimated to have no power to for 5 to 7 days….Halloween is cancelled…work is cancelled…..

Why do I live in Connecticut again??



Say Cheese

So you know when you see black and white pictures of children in people’s homes or on a Christmas card – and they are just amazing and the kids look so angelic?  You think to yourself – I have to go get nice photos taken of my kids!! This is so beautiful and amazing! 

Don’t do it if you want to retain your sanity.  

I googled children’s photography to see what kind of photo I would love to have for my kids.  You can see this perfect photograph I found below……

I know what you are thinking…..probably the same thing I thought before I ventured out to our photo shoot….

How hard could it be to get a nice photo like this one on a pristine autumn day with 2 boys that are no longer infants or toddlers??

Very hard.

Don’t do it.

Is a nice black and white photo of the people who you see every single day of your life – worth your mental wellness and your entire paycheck?

I don’t think so.

When Michael was 2-years-old and Sam was 6 months,  I made an appointment at our local Portrait Simple.  This is a studio in the mall that advertises amazing photos of children.  You know the ones, the little baby sleeping in a flower, children in front of a mantle hanging a stocking for Santa, little girls holding rabbits at Easter.

So while Mr. Gaga had plans to be in NY at a football game – I thought

“Oh that would be a great time to take the kids to get their photos taken.”

Ok – well that was just plain idiotic.

First there’s the business of getting the kids dressed in their handsome little outfits and combing their hair. Then we had to get to the mall at a time when nobody was crying, sleeping, hungry, dirty, had shit in their pants or barf on their shirt. 

Then there’s the little issue that the place is facing the Rainforest Cafe.  So at any given moment a child can crawl or run away – out of the photo shoot across the way to look at the huge alligator and essentially get lost in what seems to me to be a real rainforest.

If you are not familiar with this destination – then I will discuss it at a later time – It really deserves its own post.  Please see below:

This is a totally appropriate cafe to put directly across from a photo studio for children.....They are not going to run away and get eaten by an alligator or anything ......

This happened several times.

I was running across to catch one from the “Rainforest” and then would get them in position and say their names 500 times in a high-pitched voice (like that would make anybody want to smile ?) – and then one would escape and I would chase him, etc, etc, – for about a half hour.

To say I was “sweating” is not nearly doing justice to the buckets of perspiration that were coming out of my sweat glands. 

All this sweat and the anxiety, while some poor photographer that had at one time hoped to be doing photo shoots for Rolling Stone or Time Magazine, blows bubbles and shakes a rattle to make my children smile for their photo.

Then just when we are all at our breaking point, we are hustled out of the photo area and told to sit in the waiting area – where all 300 photos will be uploaded and I can look at all of them and pick one for my Christmas card.

So that day – I strapped the kids into my double stroller and gave them toys and goldfish and anything I could think of – so they would not scream or cry while I tried to accomplish this task.

More sweat and anxiety.

I vowed never again……..

Fast forward a year – and I said to Mr. Gaga – “Well if you come with me – it should be fine….”

It wasn’t fine.

It wasn’t fine the year after that either or the year after that.

What I will say – (I will give the Portrait Simple people a free plug )- is the photos somehow do come out VERY good.  I always get compliments on my cards and I have the photos framed all over the house and they are gorgeous.

However this year I just didn’t have it in me.  I have been going there for 5 years, the kids are older – I thought it would be good to try something different.  I hired a photographer to take pictures outside in a regular park – with no alligators or jungle vines to swing from.

I was happy about my choice. 

“This should be so easy and relaxing,” I thought as I drove to the park with the kids in khaki pants and white button-down shirts.

That was idiotic….. again.

Instead of FAKE alligators and FAKE trees – there was REAL mud and REAL grass and REAL trees.



About ten minutes into the photo shoot – they both had grass stains on their knees and their shirts were wrinkled and they were running around like lunatics.

We were attempting to get a nice photo of them on a bridge.  When the photographer stopped to do something with her camera – Michael decided it would be a good time to climb up onto the bridge, further destroying his clothes, endangering his life and sending me over the edge of reason. 

I went ballistic.

This the bridge at Elizabeth Park that my son decided to stand up on and risk his life during our photo shoot.

I ran over to him and pulled him down by his arm. I squeezed it – I was about to lose my mind.

“What is wrong with you?” I yelled. “If you keep this up I am going to go completely crazy and I am going to beat you senseless.”

He stared at me with fear in his eyes as I yelled. 

I got very close to him while still squeezing his arm – “And if I beat you here in the park – everyone will see me and then I will go to jail and you will have no mother… that what you want? Do you want me to go crazy???” DO YOU??” I screamed.

He definitely got the message.

I turned around.

There was a small crowd that had gathered waiting patiently to have their photo taken on the bridge. 

There was another photographer, a couple with a baby and another couple with 2 kids, all waiting patiently to take a picture on the bridge. 

All witnessing my craziness.

Everyone looked at me awkwardly.

Crickets chirped.

The mom holding the baby chuckled softly to be polite. (She doesn’t know yet about being crazy…..she will find out soon…..)

I actually could have at that point been reported to the local police – and definitely been carted away to the loony bin.  Thank God nobody reported me for torturing my children and we carried on with the photo shoot.

I will get to see the pictures later this week – and hopefully we got a few good ones.

Suffice it to say – I could never be a “Toddlers and Tiaras” mom. 

The glamour shots alone would send me to the institution. Maybe that’s why all those Moms are insane!!!

I am about one more photo shoot away from going as batshit crazy as this mom.......


Let’s just hope that my Christmas cards are perfect…..

I mean that’s what matters –  right?


Even though I am a mean horrible mother who threatens her children in public for a perfect photo – please know that I would really never do anything….just empty threats…….I was KIDDING!!!!!  So please click on the banner to vote for me as the funniest mom blogger…….xoxox LADY GOO GOO GAGA

Scary Party and Scary Lunch

So – remember when my friend Martha had a party in her backyard and all hell broke loose?

And remember when we went to the party that was not a “traditional American” party?

Well – let’s say I have learned a little bit about birthday parties – and I have spent a small fortune on bouncing facilities, carousels, clowns, face painters, etc…..

So, I took a risk and hosted a Halloween party for Michael on Saturday!

I was a little concerned about hosting 16 kids in costume (9 of which came toting a light saber – which usually is a recipe for disaster.)  But I learned from Martha – and I only planned one structured activity.

So a good bulk of the party the kids were left to run wild – chasing each other with their weapons…..They loved it!!

Mr. Gaga and I even dressed up, we had a fog machine and a bloody hand like Martha had suggested and scary decorations.

I even made an amazing graveyard cake! 

I know what you are thinking....Don't worry I already started the ball rolling to appear on the next season of Cake Boss.....

There were no fights.

There were no tears.

I mean if this keeps up – I might have to end this blog….what is this world coming to??

And in other “Mother of the Year” news – I went to Michael’s school on Friday to have lunch with him for his birthday.  I have to say a couple of things about this……

(You didn’t think this was going to be all about happy children and good kids’ parties and being a good mom did you??)

Ok  – first of all, there is a new phenomenon where the children of today want their mother to be with them all the time.  

Can you believe this horse shit?

I understand it’s not the 1970’s anymore – when mother’s were not even watching us ……so involved.

However- if my mother even put one toe into my school cafeteria – I would have hidden under the table so fast or pretended I went blind like Mary from Little House on the Prairie.

(That show led me to believe that you could go completely blind at any minute for no good reason – so I would often stare straight ahead and pretend I went blind.)

This was me in 1985 - whenever my mother popped into the cafeteria to see how my day was going and bring me McDonald's.....

Not this generation. 

As a mother – this new attitude of loving your mother is great – because Michael was sooo excited to see me – his eyes lit up and he patted the seat next to him to show me where to sit…. ( my heart soared.)

It was ‘picture day” – so he looked especially cute with his hair gelled in his Ralph Lauren “handsome shirt,” waiting anxiously for my arrival.

I brought him McDonald’s in a Halloween Happy Meal container and I think he might have been as happy to see me as the food.


I would have kept in character of a blind girl and felt around with my hands and snatched that Happy Meal and ran away.

But anyways – it was nice to sit and eat with my son and chat.  So when there was a lull in the conversation I took a second to look around at the surroundings and the other children.

I was so confused.

Wait a second……Did I get my dates mixed up? Is this “picture day” or is this “try out for the role of orphan in the production of “Annie?”

Some of the girls in Michael's class were practicing poses for their school picture....

I slowly started peering around table by table and assessing the situation.  I could not believe my eyes.   You know how I am not a fan of the latest craze of letting your kids go to school looking like heroin addicts with snarled hair, well that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Let me be clear – I live in an AFFLUENT TOWN. 

One child I know of that lives in a home that is approximately 6000 square feet and has live-in domestic help, had shorts on that looked like pajamas and a shirt that didn’t match.

What goes on in people’s homes in the morning? As I returned my attention back to the table I was at, I looked at the boy directly to the left of me.

I am not kidding you when I say that this was what this 7-year-old boy was wearing……

I had to stop myself from staring in horror openly.  God, my eyes……it would actually be good to be Mary in this cafeteria.

What the hell goes on????

Do people just not give a shit anymore??

At the very least could you give the kid something seasonally appropriate?

(It was 60 degrees and torrential downpours on Friday.)

I will say that whenever I get involved with the kids’ activities/school I get more glimpses of the bizarre world that we live in.

Is this just my town or is this a new phenomenon of parents everywhere?  Parents that are too tired, overwhelmed, old?? to care about minor things like combing their children’s hair or putting an outfit on their 7-year-old son – that is not his baby sister’s summer clothes…….

Either way – there’s one great thing about this…..

My kids look like freaking rock stars.

Oh and P.S. – I am keeping this all light and cute because if I stop and think about the fact that I have a 6-year-old!!!! I will cry… please click on the banner below to vote for me!!! Thanks so much! xoxox, Lady Goo Goo Gaga

Escape from Alcatraz

My blogging schedule is a little off this week due to my ESCAPE!!!! romantic getaway, for my 10 year anniversary.

Last week I could barely think straight I was so riddled with fear and anxiety.

Once we left CT (86 degrees and sunny) and landed in Miami (Tropical Storm, torrential rain, 77 degrees) – I was happy to have arrived safely – but my anxiety was creeping up on me…..

Why did I leave my babies to sit in Florida in the rain?

Well the answer was quite simple really…….

It was for lots and lots of these……

But 10 years is a long time people – I mean we are not spring chickens.

So I just want to lay it out for you – for those of you who are spring chickens – how this all goes down when you are old and weathered.

5 Differences between 2011 trip to Miami and trip 10 years ago:

1 -All your bits and pieces aren’t where/what they used to be

So when you are trying to be sexy and glamorous and your boobs and butt are sagging out a tankini – this doesn’t translate well.  I swear, I have had an Italian ass/thigh situation my whole life, but after I had kids – it was like someone deflated my butt – it just kind of hangs there.  And the boobs – forget it.  Then of course the stomach that is not exactly washboard-esque and for added glory has wrinkled skin hanging off my belly button.

All the young hotties - took one look at this and were all over me.....

I am not 400 lbs.  I want to clarify this – because my Italian father said – after I wrote this – “What the hell is wrong with you? Nobody knows what you look like and everyone is going to think you are obese with a moustache…..”

HOWEVER!!!  There has been a lot of damage.  Things (i.e. boobs, skin elasticity, ab muscles) have not weathered the storm.

2 – Your eyeballs just don’t work like they used to.  

After having 4 martinis in the middle of the first day – I promptly passed out at 5 o’clock and my husband woke me up at 7:30.  There was absolutely no way that I could have kept my eyeballs open past 5 pm.

My husband didn’t take a nap.

Guess who was falling asleep at dinner.

In our old age – we have to be very careful and strategic about drinking and staying awake – we just are not able to do what we used to do.

We could then be seen in the hotel lobby with toothpicks holding our eyes open, looking very cool and very young.

3 – Our digestive tracts ain’t what they used to be:

Though we forgot hair products and razors, we somehow managed to remember what’s important – and that is travel-size room spray.

Between the excessive drinking and delectable meals – our stomachs were basically on a rollercoaster ride that was  too much for their old-age.

One night after dinner – we were going to have drinks in the hotel bar – and I had a sudden pain in my stomach. 

“I think I am going to have an episode.” I said – which is my code word for any unpleasant digestive issues.

“Ok – I’ll come up with you and then we will come back down.” my husband said. 

Yeah right.  We both had to “digest” our food like a couple of eighty-year-olds, and then passed out with cups of Alka Seltzer sizzling on our night stands.

4 –Vacations used to make you feel better:

There is a lot more at stake when we are away from the kids now.

Small things to most – are now very important.  I could often be heard saying or thinking some of the following sentences:

I have to stay in the pool longer and enjoy it- this is the last time I will be in a body of water alone without someone hanging on me for like 5 years.”

“I should pass out and take a nap for 3 hours – just because I can – and I won’t be able to again until I am a senior citizen.”

“We can’t go back to the room yet – it’s only 12:15.  Most of Miami is just coming out now…..hopefully these toothpicks will hold…….”

So what do you know – because we tried to do too much, we came home Monday night at 12:30 – exhausted!!!   And the kids woke us up this morning – and it has been rough ever since.

It will take approximately 10-15 days to recover from this vacation.

5 – Mom jeans were invented for a reason:

Apparently I am too old to just go to Forever 21 and buy and wear whatever slutty  trendy outfit I want to….

At least that’s what my husband seemed to think when I rocked mini-skirts both nights of our trip – Uh – like EVERYONE else was!!!

“But you have 2 little boys!” he said hesitantly – when I saw my outfit.

Can you believe he said this???  Apparently I looked like Dina Lohan – but I didn’t care – So I am trying to dress young – so shoot me. This was one of my skirts ……

Tell me girls – LOVE IT?? OR LOHAN?

Happy Anniversary to Mr. Gaga!!! 

Mr. Gaga loves me so much that he  has lived with me for 10 years despite the fact that I call him Mr. Gaga and apparently dress like a tart.  If you love me as much could you please just click the banner below? Thank you !!!!   xoxoxox Lady Goo Goo Gaga


Carla and Leo …….and Chaz

A while ago I got asked to review a children’s book called Carla and Leo’s World of Dance.  The book was written by former model, and friend of Jessica Alba, Agatha Relota.   Jessica Alba actually wrote the foreword of the book. 

So like the diligent US Weekly reader that I am – I thought “Well if it’s good enough for Jessica to read to Honor – than it’s good enough for me!” (except I have two boys.)

Carla and Leo essentially go on a dance adventure, and the book highlights each different type of dance that they do.  Their journey covers ten styles: the waltz, foxtrot, swing, merengue, mambo, cha-cha, rumba, salsa, tango, and samba. The book is gorgeously illustrated with 50 illustrations by fashion illustrator Thierry Perez.  

The girly fashionista in me loved it – and I could picture myself as a young girl sitting in my room looking at all the pictures. Just looking at the different outfits alone could mesmerize me for hours. 

This is a great book for tweens – especially ones that like to dance!

The best way I could describe it is a  “Dancing with the Stars” book for kids.  So if you love Dancing with Stars then you will love this book.

If you are a part of the society that only watches Dancing with Stars to stare at the human being currently known as Chaz, then maybe this book isn’t for you.

I received one or more of the products or services mentioned above for free in the hope that I would mention it on my blog. Regardless, I only recommend products or services I use personally and believe will be good for my readers. The views and opinions expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone.

Now -the book review ends here…. if you are one of those people who is only watching Dancing with the Stars to stare at Chaz – then read on……..


I am a big fan of the gays – I love a good drag queen – I rooted for the transgender Isis on America’s Next Top Model……

My attitude is pretty much to each his  her  his    their own…..

But there is one thing I am pretty dead set on…..and that’s looks.

For example if you want to be a drag queen – you need to work it….it takes time and energy and dedication to be fabulous….

If you want to be a Chaz – son of Sonny and Cher!!! you need to look a little bit presentable…….

Why in the hell would you chop off your boobs and inject yourself with testosterone and (P.S.  – upset Cher) – only to gain 500 lbs and grow a set of man boobs the size of Texas?

I mean – everyone is entitled to do what they want with their own bodies – but I am just saying that if for example I were to change my name to Sir Gaga, and try to grow a penis – I would work really hard to look like this:

Not this……..

I don’t want to be really mean – but this week people were quite upset that Chaz got to stay and dance only really because of who he/she is…..

And Chaz really – all you do is roll around in Cher’s money and jewels – which might be part of the problem….

Maybe if you had a job or a hobby – you wouldn’t have so much time to think about different ways to distort your anatomy. 

I mean if I had no reason to wake up in the morning and no job or purpose – maybe I would stare out the window and one day say

“Hey – I know what….I’ll grow a penis!!”

This is just disgusting...Cher must get so upset when she comes over in the morning for coffee and sees this.......

Supposedly – top-secret informants found Chastity Bono’s to-do list a few years ago – which might explain how Chaz came to be …..I mean it must have been tough being Chastity Bono….

Here’s the alleged to-do list they found:

And so Chaz was born.  Alright – “It” is what “It” is – but for god sake’s get your shit together – you didn’t do all this so you could be a grotesque blob of humanity!!

And at the end of the day……….Cher is your mother…….have some pride dude.


TOP SECRET! A special DWTS event is planned where Ed Norton and Chaz dance the waltz........

Don’t hate me for blowing up Chaz’s spot – it’s called tough love!!!  Please click on the banner below to vote for me as one of the funniest mom bloggers in the world!!!

Linking to Boobies, Babies and a Blog

Stockholm Syndrome and other possible side-effects

I just finished reading the book “Room.”  It is a story about a mother who is held captive in a small confined space with her child for 5 years.

I did not want to read this book because I am already neurotic and worry about child molesters and kidnappers on the daily.  I don’t need additional information to torture me at night (this is also why I can’t watch House or Intervention.)

Anyways it was very good – the mother and the boy made this “Room” their home – and sought comfort in aspects of the room and daily rituals.

I could completely relate to this.

Do you know how people like Elizabeth Smart get kidnapped and they don’t try to escape?

They have a condition called “Stockholm Syndrome”, where they relate to their captors  and begin to feel comfortable in their role as prisoner and they are afraid to escape.

Yeah – I have that condition.

I am not comfortable trying to escape from my captors.

I have been held hostage for the better part of 6 years and have been forced to do things that I don’t want to do.  I have been stripped of my freedom.  I have been forced to be fat and wear clothes from the Old Navy.  I have been forced to stay awake for ungodly amounts of hours and entertain small children that at times behave as though they are spawns of the devil.

And yet … I don’t try to escape.

When I had my first child I had a hard time adjusting to having a baby coupled with the fact that said baby was INSANE and never slept and never got tired and catapulted himself from his crib at a bizarrely young age.

I made sure that I would be dangerously close to being admitted into the nearest mental hospital by getting pregnant when ‘Crazy Pants” – was just 9 months old.

Basically what ended up happening was that when adults tried to talk to me from about January of 2007 until quite recently – I could barely respond and was in a complete fog.

This was me. Like Goldie Hawn's character - after a day of housework and child-rearing I could no longer speak or respond appropriately to those around me......and if you were wondering - that shirt is from the Old Navy Men's Department.

I was a fat, hot mess – with very little control of the English language.  When I could form sentences I could be heard saying my 3 favorite phrases which are: 1 – “I am going to open the door and throw myself into oncoming traffic.” (when I was in a car.)2 – “I am going to gouge out my eyeballs.” (when I was in a kitchen near a sharp object)3 – “Why is this my life?” (to any adult that would make eye contact with me when I was out in public) Then one Christmas when Michael was 3 and Sam was 1 1/2 Mr. Gaga (this is his new official name) surprised me with a 4 day/3 night trip to Vegas. Exciting, luxurious and decadant…yes. The plans were made to stay at the Bellagio hotel with dinners at Nobu and Spago, massages at the spa, lounging at the pool with drinks…. What more could someone want? Well someone with Stockholm syndrome is just fine staying home with her captors.

As the trip approached I became more and more distraught.  I cried.  I hyperventilated.  I tried to cancel the trip. I was terrified that something would happen to us and my babies would be orphans.  Plus I had never left them – and they would be with my in-laws the whole time. For reference about that SEE HERE. “All you do is complain that you never get a break and now you have a chance to relax and have fun and you are still not happy.” my husband said with disgust as he polished his Elvis sunglasses and steamed his clubbing shirt.(Oh by the way – research has shown that he DOES NOT have Stockholm syndrome.) “I know but it’s not worth it” I cried. (I literally cried for like 2 weeks prior to this trip – I was not well.) It’s not like I am going on a business trip…..If I die in a plane crash – my kids will have to forever know that I am dead and left them to go to Vegas like a trashy 2-bit whore!!” I said throwing myself on the bed. My husband wouldn’t budge. “You need to take a Xanax.” my mother said unsympathetically when I would call her in hysterics.”No – I can’t.” I said flatly.”Why?  You will feel so much better!””I need my anxiety……it is part of me.”  I would say. I know.
Hardcore Stockholm in the house…… So we went – we survived the flight.I got there – I forgot I had children altogether – never even called to check in.I began to focus on how I could get a boob-job work as a burlesque dancer and only go home at Christmas. Then it was time to go home….back to reality….to my captors. So my 10 year anniversary is coming up and Mr. Gaga insisted on planning another trip. (Apparently my bitchiness and nagging has not deterred him from wanting to spend time with me.) At least the kids are older now – so that makes me feel a little better.But when I think of the pending trip – I start to get a pit in my stomach and a little bit of tightening in my throat……….gulp. I received no form of monetary compensation or product for this post. The opinions expressed in this review are my own and were not influenced in any way.  I just really enjoyed the book “Room!”
But I will be reviewing another book towards the end of this week….
 In the meantime – please click on the banner below to vote for me!!If people like me and think I am funny maybe I won’t be so insane…….

LINKING TO POUR YOUR HEART OUT and Mama Kat’s writing workshop

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